“Yes!” I finally explode.
Gavin’s eyes widen, but I keep going.
“It’s locked when it’s never been locked before, and I’d know. I go in thereall the time, Gavin. When you aren’t here, I go in and I look through your pictures and your jerseys and your awards because I miss you and want to connect with you, and now it’s locked, and I don’t knowwhyit’s locked, and I…” I gulp in a big breath of air. “I just want to know why? I just want…”
Tears unexpectedly sting my eyes, and I’m not sure why.
No, that’s a lie. I know exactly why—Neal.
I exhale heavily. “Open the door, Gavin. Please.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. He just stands there, staring at me, and I can only imagine what’s going through his mind. He told me before I wasn’t too much, but it certainly feels like I’m too much now. I’m acting like a madwoman over a locked door, and no matter how ridiculous that sounds, I can’t stop.
Finally, he moves. He walks down the hall, not stopping until he’s right beside me. I watch as he reaches up, up, up to the trim that surrounds the door and pulls down a key.
Oh god.The key was right there the whole time? I’m so embarrassed I can’t even look up at him as he pushes the door open and steps aside. I don’t move. I’m rooted to the spot.
“Well?” he asks. “Aren’t you going to look?”
I lift my head, and my heart stops in my chest. Then it starts right back up again.
Boom boom boomboom boomboomboom.
It’s erratic as I take in just what was being hidden behind the locked door. It wasn’t anything nefarious. It wasn’t some secret life he was hiding. And it wasn’t because he didn’t want me messing with his things.
I burst into tears. Huge, ugly tears. They roll down my cheeks, and Gavin instantly gathers me into his arms. The cinnamon he always smells like hits my nose, and it makes me cry harder.
“Hey,” he says gently, rubbing my back. “Don’t cry, Nessa. Please, I hate it when you cry. It… It fucking hurts, okay?”
Ilovethat it hurts. How sick is that?
“I’m sorry, I’m just…” I sniffle against him. “You made me an art room?”
He laughs softly. “Well, yeah. You mentioned the coffee shop was too loud, and it’s too cold and wet to be up on the roof, so I figured, why not? I’m not using this room for anything important, and you’ve already claimed the other room as your own personal closet, so it just made sense.”
I rub my eyes against his shirt, and it makes his chest rumble again.
I look at his blurry face. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
His mouth hitches up on one side. “I thought I was annoying.”
“That too. But also perfect.” I rise up, my lips ghosting over his. “Perfectly annoying.”
He kisses me first, his big hand cradling the back of my head as he holds me close, his mouth moving expertly over mine like he knows my body better than I do. I think he just might.
When we finally part, he grins. “Well? Want to take a closer look?”
I nod frantically. “Yes, please.”
He releases me, then ushers me into the gorgeous sage-painted room. There are white shelves lining one wall, each cubby filled with different kinds of art supplies. Pens, pencils, markers, paintbrushes galore…everything. There are at least four different-sized sketchbooks, an easel that captures the little sunlight that’s poking through the clouds, and an oversized chair that could easily fit three of me tucked in the opposite corner. A giant—and extremely expensive—drawing table sits in the middle of the room, a stool slid beneath it. It’s topped off with a few faux plants to give it a lively look.
It’s breathtaking, and everything I could have ever wanted from a space like this.
“Gavin…” I choke back the sob that’s trying to work its way free. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“You deserve it.”
He says it so simply that I nearly believe him. I pull my gaze from the beautiful room and look at the man responsible for it. He’s leaning against the door, his hands in his pockets as he grins at me.
